You Make Your Own Luck, Gig. You

The World Is A Fine Place And Worth The Fighting For And I Hate Very Much To Leave It.

Sometimes You Know The Story. Sometimes You Make It Up As You Go Along And Have No Idea How It Will Come Out.

Shooting Gives Me A Good Feeling. It Is Faster Than Baseball And You Are Out On One Strike.

Any Man's Life, Told Truly, Is A Novel.

I Kept This To Remind Me Of You Trying To Brush Away The Villa Rossa From Your Teeth In The Morning, Swearing And Eating Aspirin And Cursing Harlots. Every Time I See That Glass I Think Of You Trying To Clean Your Conscience With A Toothbrush.